


A Woman Soldier

by Chibifukurou



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Gen, POV Female Character, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:37:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibifukurou/pseuds/Chibifukurou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Colonel agreed to burn Riza's father's research from her back, neither of them had considered all of the repercussions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Woman Soldier

**Author's Note:**

  * For [likeadeuce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/gifts).



> A HUGE Thank you to Bay for betaing this on such short notice and with such thoroughness.

When the Colonel agreed to burn Riza's father's research from her back, neither of them had considered all of the repercussions. The damage is so wide-spread and deep that it leaves her in agony. The Colonel has no choice but to take her to the field hospital for treatment.

By the time she wakes up, she is swathed in bandages from waist to shoulder and the Colonel is banned from her bedside. The nurses talk to her about leaving the Colonel.

She blames the laudanum for the fact that she thinks they are talking about leaving his command. It takes her a week to realize that they think the Colonel had a flash back and burned her, while they were sharing a bed.

After that she lays off the laudanum and starts trying to get out of bed whenever the nurses aren't looking. It takes less than a week for the doctors to foist her off on the administrative department. She's not fit for active duty until her back is fully healed and they are sure that she isn't suffering from shell-shock.

# # #

The administrative offices are where she meets Rebecca Catalina.

Rebecca is the opposite of Riza in almost every way. She is rarely seen without a bright smile and her dark hair billows out to surround her head in loose curls that cascade all the way down past her shoulders.

She wears floor length skirts, that are far more than has been required for female soldiers sin the last ten years and she flirts outrageously with every man who walks through the general's door.

It is easy for Riza to dismiss her. That doesn't seem to bother her though. She still makes sure to come sit beside Riza every day at lunch. Chatting the whole time about some new boy she has her eye on, or complaining about the general's latest ridiculous eccentricity.

Riza thinks of her kindly. She is the only one who doesn't treat her like an invalid.

Then Riza makes the mistake of going to one of the soldier bars just off of the base. There are many Ishvalan veterans there. More than one scarred by the signs of alchemic reactions gone wrong. She doesn't think anything of it. Still too close to the war, to know when her buzzing instincts are trying to alert her to a new threat, rather than alerting her to the anxiety which flows constantly through her nerves.

It's a big man, head and shoulders above Riza that starts it. He comes up to the table and shoves the chair across from Riza's seat away to slam against a chair at an adjacent table. Then he slams both fists against her table, causing it to shake and list to the side. Her glass tips over, whiskey pouring down to pool on the saw-dust covered floor. He leans over, until he is inches from her face and forced into a precarious position, his body sprawled over the table-top. This close, Riza can see the burn scars that cover the right side of his neck and spread down to disappear under his shirt collar.

"Well, well if it isn't the flame alchemist's little bitch!" His breath smells of potato mash rot gut and tobacco. 

"Can I help you?" she asks, using his awkward position and bulk to cover the way her hand slips beneath the table to caress the butt of her gun.

"You think he'd like it if we sent you back to him in pieces?"

She should keep her mouth shut. She's the rational one, but she's still burnt out from the war and maybe there is some part of her that thinks the best way to pay penance for all she has done is to let someone beat her into the ground. So she knows what it feels like. Because instead of getting up and walking away, she smiles cock sure as Mustang, and says, "That depends. How would you like to be sent home in an urn?"

He roars, and reaches out to throttle her. She shoots him in the shoulder, over the burn scar. It is no doubt still tender, with less than a year to heal. He topples, bringing her table down with him.

She's already moved out of the way and has her handguns aimed at the two thugs nearest to her. They tense, hands reaching for their own guns. She prepares herself for pain, and the joys of having to explain gunshot holes to the MPs.

Rebecca busts through the door, and breaks the stand-off. At first, it's because of the noise she makes. She somehow manages to open the door with enough force to send it slamming against the wall. Then everybody catches sight of what it is she's tossing between her hands.

A grenade.

Who the hell brings a grenade to a bar?

"Hi boys!"

All of the soldiers suddenly find their drinks interesting. Even the idiot who'd gotten into her face manages to drag himself upright and start rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

Rebecca drops her smile for the first time since Riza met her. Without the overblown smile, Riza can see the danger lurking in her eyes. ??? stance even shifts. Legs spread wide beneath her skirt and large handbag positioned on her right forearm, its top gaping wide and dark. Making it clear that just about anything could be lurking in its depths. "You aren't giving my friend Riza any trouble are you?"

"No ma'ame!" They chorus. 

"Good!" She sounds jovial again. Her posture changes back to its usual unassuming stance, heels tuckclose together and handbag slung carelessly over her elbow. 

That doesn't stop Riza's attempted assailants from scuttling away when Rebecca slings an arm over Riza's shoulder and leads her out of the bar. 

"You could have told me you were coming here. I'd have come with you." Rebecca says. As casually as if she hadn't just broken up a gunfight and she isn't still clenching a grenade in her left hand.

"You might want to put that away. Before you make the civilians nervous."

Rebecca glances down at her hand, like she'd forgotten what she was holding. Her sheepish laugh completes the absent minded appearance.

Riza isn't falling for it. Not anymore. She's not a woman who would be glad to put the whole event out of her mind and act like she was just another clerk who barely knew one end of a gun from the other.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the General's assistant." Her tone implies that Riza is being ridiculous.

"You just scared off a bar full of veteran's who weren't afraid to take on a trained assassin who works with the Flame Alchemist."

"Did I? They seemed like a well behaved group of boys to me."

Riza wants to point out that they hadn't been that well behaved before Rebecca showed up, but she supposes that is the point Rebecca is trying to make.

Rebecca escorts her all the way to her barrack's door talking about trivial things the whole way. Riza walks beside her, face set and back stiff, unsure of how to act around someone so normal. She can't remember the last time she spent time with another woman.

*Highlighted part I merge with the last paragraph

Once she has the barrack door open Rebecca turns to leave. Then she stop and turns back to meet Riza's eyes. "I don't want to tell you what to do, but you need to decide who you are going to be. If they keep seeing you as Mustang's dog, they'll never respect you. You're not in a war-zone anymore. Mustang is miles away. Now is the time to decide who you are and make your own legacy."

She turns then, and walks away. Swaying to some music all her own. Riza watches her until she's out of sight. She goes into her barrack and curls up in her bunk, but sleep doesn't come.

Her mind goes over and over Rebecca's advice. Maybe it is time she steps out of Mustang's shadow. She's already burned her father's legacy from her body. There is no reason she can't become the woman she dreamed of being, back before the war ripped her insides out and left her bleeding from dozens of soul-deep wounds.

# # #

By the time Colonel Mustang joins her in Eastern Command, she's carved out a place and a legacy for herself.

When she walks into a bar now, it is with a half dozen guns holstered in plain view and a swagger that dares anybody who sees her to try something. 

Her hair is long again and her eyes no longer look like a corpse's.  
Sometimes she even finds herself wearing skirts and going out with Rebecca. They discuss men, make-up, clothes, and any other frivolous topic that enters into their minds.

She's proud of her scarred back and sure of her calling in life, no longer hindered by her father's legacy or Mustang's pity. 

Riza is ready for the future and to complete the task she's set for herself. She has a country to protect and a world to change and she won't stop fighting until the Colonel is Fuhrer.


End file.
